


That Adventure

by SamanthaEndevours



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaEndevours/pseuds/SamanthaEndevours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish is kidnapped by, the long time friend of his father's, the Doctor. Sherlock and John are confused and forced to seek the assistance of River Song to retrieve there son. There is no limit to the power of two men looking for there son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hamish

It’s dark… I don’t like the dark, I never have. Father likes the dark. He says it’s lonesome but safe. Dad on the other hand, he despises the dark. I haven’t decided as yet if I like it or not. I hear a bang on the window though it’s probably just the wind, somehow it sounds familiar. I remember being 6 and hearing a similar noise getting out of bed and racing to the lounge room where I found Father and Dad playing Cluedo. Being nearly 16 now I just ignore the sound letting it only play on my mind for a moment that it sounds almost identical to the noise I have heard before. Against my better judgment I jump out of bed and slowly stroll over to the window blowing my curling black hair out of my face when in falls in my eyes.   
Father always says “if you observe everything nothing will ever catch you by surprise and you will be forever one step ahead of your enemy.” I do not know if the ill-fitting blue police telephone box was a threat or not but I knew it did not belong. Like I did when I was 6 I strolled out to the lounge room. Stropping just before I open the door as I hear voices.  
“John… I believe we have a visitor.” I here Father’s voice as it hits the door I stand behind.  
“Oh please Sherlock, you act as thought you don’t expect him but I know you can read him as well as any of us. Why is he here?” Dad replies, I cannot tell by his tone whether he is honestly concerned or jestingly angering father.   
Knock, Knock, Knock…  
The Front door shakes for a moment only slightly after the knocks that alert the arrival of a visitor. Three knock, spread by half a second equally pressured. The person at the door is in no hurry and is most likely familiar as to the casualty of three knock as opposed to the usual two. I step towards the door; I never did please Dad with my lack of self-preservation. Father always remarked I cared more for the adventure I took then the state of which I returned. Turing the door knob I open the door to a rather interesting sight.  
A reasonable tall, thin, bow legged man. Floppy brown hair falling in his eyes, straight unlike mine. His brown swede jacket opened on a white dress shirt done up nicely with a red bow tie. Where he had his hand on his side is jacket was pulled back to reveal his matching red suspenders. He wore what I could only describe as black tuxedo pants due to the cut and seam down the side. His shoes brown leather laced up to just above his ankle. I scanned his outfit once more in the split second after opening the door before returning to his face. He was a rather handsome lad, I say lad as he would properly only be 23 or 24.  
“Hello I’m the Doctor.” Was all he said slowly, cheerfully and calmly. As I looked at him I could see in his eyes the same look my father gets when he is meeting someone new. He is taking in my appearance the same way I examined his.  
“Hello I am Hamish Gregory Watson-Holmes although just Hamish will suffice.” I say quickly without pause. The speed of which I speak would normally throw some off their trail of thought and stumble them for just a moment. For some reason this does not happen. He just smiles and opens his eyes, grassy green eyes, somehow wider as if wanting to get an even better look at me,  
“Well aren’t you your father’s son.” He said standing up straight and putting out his hand to shake my own.  
“Yes that is generally how parenting works.” I say returning his gesture shaking his hand once before withdrawing it. “Are you here to see my Fathers?” I ask, the one thing I cannot get from him being his reason for arriving on my doorstep at ten minutes to eleven at night.  
“I’m here partly to see them but mostly to see you…” he trails off looking at something behind me. I feel no need to check what is behind me as I so feel my father’s hand on my shoulder.   
“That is enough Doctor, what do you say we let my son retire to bed. I’m sure he has sleep to catch up on.” Father says stepping in front of me by just half a center meter which he always does when he wish to protect me from something. Being the intelligent man he is I assume the first times he did it would have been absolutely purposeful but I feel as I have grown his small gestures of hostility towards any who dare stand too close to me have become natural.  
“Sherlock, my old friend it has been two long. Last time I was here you were but a new father learning how to care for this young Hamish Gregory Watson-Holmes and now look at you standing between he and I like a natural parent. I’m very much impressed.” The man in the door way took a step forward, I feared for a moment my father was going to engage him by directing one physical blow to his torso but instead as the man, who I remember labeled himself the Doctor, stepped forward Father did as well wrapping his arms around his and Hugging him.  
“Doctor meet Hamish,” Father said pulling away for just a moment to gesture towards myself. “Hamish meet the doctor… he is a very old friend of mine and in all respects the only person who would classify as a God Father.”  
Now this was new… a god father. Neither dad nor father followed any religion so I only assume they gave this strange green eyed man this title due to an old underlying friendship. To me he was the enemy that had to be feared in that dark place. No matter how hard I looked I couldn’t find even one indication to where he lived, what he did or who he was. And that scared me. Very much so. The only other male relative I know is Mycroft and he isn’t exactly a brilliant male figure. If this is the only male role model they have I would rather stay the way I am.   
“That is very much alright Father. I don’t want another father. I’m quite happy with the two I have now.” I said finally stepping back and turning away from them both heading back to bed.  
“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” The doctor shouted from behind me I could almost hear the way he bounded up behind me idiotically. I turned to him to find his face just an inch from mine. “Do you want to go on an adventure Hamish?” I saw my face reflected in his dark green eyes.  
“Now that I must agree…”   
“Hamish, leave us.” I was cut off by Dad as he entered the door way pushing the doctor in the chest away from me. “Why are you here again?” he asked him interrogation like. Father and Dad have many strong opposing opinions but never have I seen them have different attitudes to a person.   
“Dad I am very much interested in this conversation and how it may unfold.” I replied stepping towards the Doctor once more.  
“John, I just want to show him what he’s missing.” The Doctor said smiling, in that moment he jumped forward taking my hand that was at my side and pushing it to the strange black watch on his wrist. “Hold on, young Hamish.” He turned to Father and grinned, if I wasn't scared before that grin would have had me trembling in my boots. This man was not someone I could trust in a dark room. “Say goodbye to your son, Mr. Holmes.”  
“No!” I heard my father shout just as it happened. Suddenly I wasn't where I was, and I couldn't see father. I was lost, very very lost. In that Dark place and I was afraid.


	2. Doctor

I can see him, I can see where I am holding his wrist but I cannot feel him. In the universe we are all connected, when not physically we are connected by what we touch and feel and everything that falls around us while we hurtle through the vast endless sky that is space. Where I am is not space. I am trapped and I am being used.  
I can remember what happened so very clearly. I’m not entirely sure for a moment weather I am seeing my memory or his. Him… I don’t want to even think his name. That name that I know far too well. He is controlling me, so many times have I been forced into a body that doesn't feel like my own. A body that is yet to belong to me, but never have I been pushed out of that body that I have grown attached to.   
I look once more into Hamish’s eyes, my vision is clouded with hatred and contempt but I know that is only what my captor is feeling. I force those grotesque feelings away as I stare in to his all too big eyes. One being slightly more blue the other slightly more green. His pale skin looking a fragile as ever if not more. Every time I have monitored him from where ever I am in the universe I have never seen him so pale and so frightened as now. The idea that he was staring back at a face that should be of a trusted friend with such fear and loneliness disgusts me. Am speaking to him or he is speaking to him. With every word that escapes the lips that are rightfully mine the faith of this horrible creature is more tightly sealed.  
“So Hamish, where do you want to go?” He asks Hamish, I feel whatever is left of me frown. I’m not sure what of my control is showing on my face but it can’t be much.  
“I want to go home.” Is all he said staring down at the floor.   
“What your father said about me being the doctor… he was lying, I’m not the doctor, the doctor is in here,” I felt my arm move to tap on my temple. “But I am not he.”  
“Who are you then?” Hamish asked fear continuing to pulsate through his entire being.  
“My name is Rory Pond and I seek vengeance.”


	3. Sherlock

“No. What did you do? Where is Hamish, Sherlock? Where is our son?” John yelled at me grabbing his head and moving around uncontrollably.   
“Look at me John…” I yelled placing my hands on his shoulders and forcing him to stand still facing me. “I will get our son back.”  
“Why has he taken Hamish, Sherlock? Why would he do that?” John asked tears streaming down his face like that pacing he was doing was holding them back somehow. “You always said we could trust him.”  
“I don’t know why he has taken Hamish but there is one thing I know.” I said, “That was not The Doctor. You know me well enough to know I know when I stand before someone and when I do not. We were not standing before the doctor… I just can’t pin point who it was.”  
“Sherlock that doesn’t matter. We need to find him and we need to find him now.” John shook my hands from his shoulders and ran to the table where our house phone sat.  
“Who are you going to call, you understand this all well enough to know we can’t call Hamish and the TARDIS phone is always left un-answered.” I said following until I stood next to him. His hands where trembling as he lifted the phone and began typing a number. Hamish’s Number.  
‘Hello, you’ve reached Hamish Watson-Holmes. I very rarely check my messages so please either call back or find me. Thank You.’ I heard Hamish’s recoded voice message.  
“Hamish… It’s your dad. Listen we are going to find you, I promise. We are going to come and get you and bringing you home and put you back in your bed with your books and you bear. Your father and I will kiss you goodnight and this will all be over. We love you and we will see you soon.” John hung up the phone and lent his head on my shoulder for just a moment.  
“Now you have promised.” I said to him.  
“Now we are going to get our son.”


End file.
